The Gypsy Lover
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: He was a fool, but he was falling after her anyway. [Tieshipping]


**A/N**: Written for the YuGiOh fanfiction challenges Season 11, round 2. Pairing this time is Tieshipping (Honda/Miho). I'm using anime-Miho here.

And excuse the strangeness. It was a bit of a rushed job. I didn't realise how much things I had to do about now…and how many muses running rampart.

* * *

**The Gypsy Lover**

* * *

**1.**

The sound of wind-chimes reached him faster than the clippity-clop of hooves on a well-worn path, and Honda straightened with a wince. One fist came up to nudge a few muscles loose on his back; the other clung to the trowel supporting his lanky frame.

'You're not going to see much like that,' Jonouchi chuckled from behind him, shoveling dirt.

'Shut it,' Honda muttered, craning his neck and wincing at the popping noise that ensured. Sadly though, it appeared Jonouchi was correct; he could see nothing of the Gypsies' caravans, despite the tell-tale signs that preceded it.

Not that it really matters; the Gypsies didn't have much interest in the common-folk, nor they them. Their audience were the Nobles – like the uptight young man Honda found himself working for.

* * *

**2.**

Kaiba had ordered Honda into town for some picks, and the gardener was just trudging back with them when he heard the chimes again, this time tickled with the peels of female laughter.

The picks held him in place: made him feel gangly and a mess before the exotic sound, but he found himself gravitating towards it nonetheless. Towards the giggles that erupted into bursts of joyous chatter and song, until finally the picks he carried slid from his hands as he was catching a spinning girl instead.

She stared at him in surprise, then h'mmphed and hitched her skirt before starting up the hill again. The scent of flowers trailed after her, and Honda could only stare after the tail of lavender hair and green ribbon vanishing into the sun.

* * *

**3.**

Kaiba wasn't pleased with his tardiness and the resulting work left Honda's hands painfully blistered, but it was worth it. The fleeting image he'd seen clung tightly to daydreaming mind, and Jonouchi shot him many a glance before giving up.

That night Honda stopped by the market on his way home, ready to soak his hands in warm water and herbs but lacking the necessities to do so. The old woman muttered at him before handing over the final sheet of leaves, and Honda reluctantly parted with a few coins from his pay for some comfort.

Before he could leave, he bumped into that girl again and she glared at him, before her face melted.

Honda started, then bowed. 'My apologies, Fair Lady,' he mumbled, flushed. 'I didn't not –'

The girl laughed weakly, and she really did have a girlish laughter though she must be a woman by age. 'Lady,' she repeated, before shaking her head with a faint. 'I cannot shop; I cannot even buy a sheet of those herbs now.'

She gestured at the packet he held, and he surrendered them to her without a second thought.

* * *

**4. **

He was fixing his roof on his day off when he came across the girl again…or rather, she came to him, lavender hair fanning behind her in the gentle breeze with the green ribbon following suit.

'I wanted to thank you,' she called up to him,' for the other day.'

'It was no problem,' he responded back, forgetting how the blisters had pained him for days afterwards.

She smiled at him, and his heart melted at the sight. Some gypsy magic, he had to think. It had hoodwinked him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

She looked curiously on as he went back to his work – or tried to.

'You seem skilled in the mending art,' she commented.

'Not at all, Lady,' was the reply he gave, almost slipping and hammering his hand instead. 'I am but a humble gardener.'

'And would a humble gardener like yourself be able to help a Gypsy-girl like myself?'

He said yes without a thought.

* * *

**5.**

'No-one calls me a lady,' the Gypsy-girl said to him, and Honda was somehow saddened at the thought.

'You are a lady,' he said to her. 'A beautiful one.'

She smiled sunnily at him again, blindingly bright. 'You are a humble gardener.' She repeated the words he had said to her not long ago.

'Honda,' Honda said without conscious thought.

'Honda,' the girl repeated, before laughing. 'Honda, I'll remember that. Perhaps.' She considered a moment longer, then added: 'Miho. I'm Miho.'

'Miho.'

Honda carved the name into his heart, even though he knew he was a fool.

* * *

**6.**

Miho came to him again. This time, their tent's supports had broken and she needed him to fix it. He did it happily; he liked to think she'd come to him for other reasons, and indeed she stayed and chattered on about trivial things. Some of her girl-friends came as well, the other gypsies who giggled and then drifted on their way again.

He hadn't asked, but Miho had replied anyway. 'We drift. That's what we do.'

And then she'd babbled on about nonsensical things until the tent was erect in the field and the first of the villagers came trickling in. He made to go, but Miho clung to his arm and smiled at him.

'Stay,' she said, tugging him along. 'It's no fun alone.' Then she laughed, and chimes were playing in the tent. 'I'll show you all the sights.'

* * *

**7.**

'Why am I special?'

She lay next to him, in the moonlight.

'You're not.'

Honda stared. Miho laughed.

'Special people are the nobles,' she explained, 'the people who pay for everything and never let the wind guide them like us ordinary folk.'

'I…see…' He felt uncomfortable somehow, as she said that, but then he felt her cool hands caress his face and he relaxed.

'Think of this,' she said softly. 'It's only the ordinary people who can sleep without paying a price first.'

He closed his eyes to her touch.

* * *

**8.**

She said that, that it was no fun alone, and yet she was the one who'd gone in the morning. The hill was empty again, the birds singing where the chimes had once driven them out, and Honda stood silently as the wind slept him clean.

He arrived late to Kaiba's estate, and the man sent him mucking out the stalls as punishment. By the end of that, even the smell of perfume had faded from his flesh.

Probably…she'd probably forgotten his name as well.

_'We drift. It's what we do.'_

She'd said that as well. It was the one thing she said he should have listened to.


End file.
